Down the Rabbit Hole
by Msynergy
Summary: The fall is just the beginning. SPOILERS UP TO 2X09.
1. Part 1

_Down the Rabbit Hole_

Disclaimer: I wish, but no, I don't own the characters/show.

Author's Note: I have lost the ability to can. This is the result.

She's falling. Plummeting into the abyss. Out of her depth, out of control in every way. Down the rabbit hole that was actually in the Mad Hatter's hat the entire time.

Alice has nothing on Emma Swan.

She should have never pushed Regina out of the way, she should have let that Wraith have her, but she'd promised Henry. Henry, who, depending on how this all ends, she'll probably never see again. The thought eats at her from the inside. She'd just got him back, and now-

Nothingness, oblivion, not exactly how she imagined her end. Considering her life recently, however, it's not all that far fetched.

But as she continues to fall she feels something grab her, grab her jacket in fact. But who- Oh shit.

A quick glance up confirms her fears. Mary Margaret, Snow White, her mother. She must have jumped in after her.

"Why?!" she tries to shout, but the words are lost in the vortex.

Snow shouts something back, but all Emma can make out is "Not…again!"

She feels her eyes widen and vision swim as Snow's grip tightens on her jacket. She'd basically called them out, called her out, on doing what was best for their kingdom, for the greater good, not their daughter, but this, this was something else.

They could be falling straight to their deaths or into some kind of parallel world purgatory, but Snow had still jumped.

_For me. Only for me._

It's the last thought Emma has before hitting the ground, hard.


	2. Part 2

_Part 2_

Disclaimer: I wish, but no, I don't own the characters/show.

Author's Note: I thought I was done with this one, but Snow wanted her say too.

She jumps without a second thought, and darkness falls shortly after.

The portal has closed, she realizes, and Charming didn't make it through. It's very likely she'll never see him, or her grandson again. But even bearing the agony of separation for the nth time, she has no regrets.

Oblivion or no, she is not letting her daughter go through this alone.

Alone, like she's been all her life. But not anymore.

She can't make up for those missing years, not really. She can't go back and kiss better all those skinned knees and read her all those bedtime stories, but she can be here now. It's not much, but there isn't anything she wouldn't do for Emma.

She can only hope they live long enough for her daughter to understand that. If not, well, no regrets remember?

And in the free fall she finally sees her, long blonde hair waving like a banner of light in the dark. She reaches, trying everything to get closer, to grab a hand, an arm, but her hand finally touches jacket and she takes it.

The move makes Emma look up, and the shock on her face is plain.

She doesn't have to read lips to understand the "Why?!" Emma tries to shout. Her answer comes easy.

"I am not gonna lose you again!"

Recognition sparks in Emma's eyes, and she tightens her hold.

_I'm here, Emma. I'm here._

It's the last thought Snow has before hitting the ground, hard.


	3. Part 3

_Part 3_

Disclaimer: I wish, but no, I don't own the characters/show.

Author's Note: So I had this idea to write up a little one-shot involving Snow and Emma for every episode they're in the Enchanted Forrest. Alas, this recent ep didn't provide a lot of material, but I will persevere! Since they didn't show us exactly how Emma and Snow ended up tied up and marched behind a horse, this is my spin on how it happened. Obviously, spoilers for 2x02.

She wakes up with a sword to her throat.

Not the worst situation she's ever woken up to, but it's in her top five.

"What the f-"

"Silence!" the owner of the sword shouts, and she immediately shuts up. Best not to piss off the person with the weapon in her experience, especially when they're already pissed.

Unfortunately, Mary Margaret picks that exact moment to wake up. The grip on her jacket tightens and Emma instinctually moves her arm to cover her friend, her stare daring her attacker to move her sword.

"Emma, what-"

"We've got company," she hisses back, eyes never leaving the woman clad in armor.

Snow stills the moment she sees the shine of the blade against Emma's throat, her eyes darkening with fear and anger.

The fear Emma's seen before, but the anger is definitely new. It easily overtakes the terror that would have easily consumed her friend before, and a woman who's decidedly not Mary Margaret releases her grip on Emma and flips onto her back.

"Do not move another muscle," the armored woman commands, pressing her blade closer to Emma's throat. It hurts like a bitch, but Emma fights back her fear. Now is not the time.

"Aurora, there is extra rope with the horses, get it and bring it here."

Aurora? Aurora as in Sleeping Beauty? Where the hell had they ended up?

"Mulan, I don't think-"

"They brought the Wraith! They must answer for it!"

_Mulan?! As in freaking Mushu and the Huns and make a man outta you, Mulan? Okay, now I know I hit my head_. Emma groans, resisting sthe urge to roll her eyes.

"Please, we are your prisoners, we won't resist just please remove your sword," the plea comes from Snow, but while her words are soft and submissive when she meets Emma's gaze her eyes are determined, urging her to play along.

Considering her options, she'll definitely follow Snow's lead on this one.

Giving a near imperceptible nod in return, Snow allows a hint of a smile to twitch against her lips before turning back to Mulan. Seriously _Mulan_?

Finally the blade leaves her neck, but before she can breathe a sigh of relief she feels a warm hand where the cold metal had been.

Watching as Snow inspects her neck for damage, the look in those eyes she thought she knew so well nearly takes her breath again. The maternal concern and love is unbound and would make her squirm enough, but in the shadow of those emotions lays murder. A tiger waiting to strike at anything that would dare hurt its cub. It's the same feeling she'd had when she became a believer and Regina had walked into that hospital ward.

This woman was definitely not the Snow White Disney had drawn up. Maybe they had more in common than she thought.

But the moment is gone when Aurora returns with the rope and they're forced to their feet. Aurora stands guard as their hands are tied together and when Mulan leads them to a waiting horse this situation is definitely creeping up her top five list. It could even make it to number one depending on how this all ultimately went down.

She prides herself on staying in shape, but nothing prepares her for being tied up and pulled by her hands for miles. She can't imagine how her travel companion is feeling. Snow White might be an official badass, but Mary Margaret was a schoolteacher for twenty-eight long years.

At one point Snow falls, hard, and Mulan is forced to stop least she be pulled of her horse. She tugs on the rope with an angry shout, and in an instant Emma is by her side, doing whatever her binds allow to help.

"C'mon," she encourages, feeling the woman lean heavily on her as she manages to stand once more, and takes a moment to catch her own breath, "You okay?"

"I'm fine, Emma," she breathes, wobbling slightly but staying on her feet.

What she doesn't expect is the wink the woman gives her before they're again forced into motion. And suddenly she gets it. In fact, she's embarrassed that she didn't think of it sooner herself. Yep, Snow White is officially still a badass.

How better to get people off their guard than to appear harmless? Weak even? They'd never see it coming when she finally made her move. Emma just has to pay attention until that time came.

That faint smile is on Snow's lips again, and she can't help but copy her.

She does her best slow her pace, to struggle to keep up, make it as believable as possible that she was nearing the edge of collapsing herself after the long march. It isn't hard to do either, she's beyond tired and the rope has already rubbed her wrists raw.

"What is this place?" Snow gasps when they finally stop on a beach, an island connected by a thin peninsula of sand the only thing in sight besides more water and sand.

"Our home," Mulan informs before urging her horse and them forward.

Every muscle in her body has started to scream, but managing to hop over the logs littering the beach, she is nothing if not determined. Wherever the hell they were, whatever waits for them, their captors have never dealt with the likes of Emma Swan.

Or the likes of Snow White it seems, as when Emma glances over she sees that exact same determination on her friend's, her mother's face.


	4. Part 4

_Part 4_

Disclaimer: I wish, but no, I don't own the characters/show.

Author's Note: Definitely on the fluffier side of things with this part. But hey, talk about inspiration!

It's when Emma sits down in front of the fire at the camp they've made for the night that Snow's finally had enough.

"Alright, let's see it."

"See what?" Emma starts, her face blank, but her eyes tell another story. They always have, even as Mary Margaret she'd noticed that.

"Your ankle. You've been favoring it since Cora. You probably hurt it when you fell during the ogre attack and she made it worse, right? Take off your boot so I can look," she reaches, but Emma shrinks back.

"Really, I'm fine."

"Emma-"

"You gotta teach me how to do that."

"What?"

"That 'cut the crap, kid' tone. I need to work on mine for when we get back. You've only been at it for a few days and you're already a pro."

"Maybe later. And nice deflection, but you're not worming your way out of this one."

"Damn, and here I was hoping-"

"Emma."

"What?"

"Just let me see your ankle. Please. In case you haven't noticed there isn't a hospital down the street here and-"

"Okay, okay. Geez," Emma finally sighs, "You are so lucky that Sleeping Beauty's living up to her name and Mulan likes to patrol before bed. I do not want them hearing about this, okay?"

"Duly noted. Now give me your foot, please."

"I can take off my own boot, thanks."

But as Emma bends over to do just that her ankle shifts inside the leather.

"Ow! Son of a bitch!"

Snow opens her mouth, ready to chide Emma for her language, then thinking better of the idea shuts it closed. They've both crossed some major hurdles today in the way of their relationship, best not to push it, even if that's all she wants to do.

_Remember what happened last time, Snow_, she can almost hear Charming in her head, guiding her as always. God, she misses him, it would be so much easier if he were with her now. But then Henry would be alone, alone with _that_ woman in the same town, and she's happy that James is there to look after their grandson.

I will just have to do the same for our daughter, she resolves, if she'll let me.

"Going to let me help now?"

Emma sighs, sitting back again.

"Point made, go ahead."

She moves as carefully as she can, but with every wince Emma tries to hide she finally settles on working as quickly as possible.

And once the boot and sock come off, Snow feels her breath catch at the sight that greets her.

"Oh, Emma."

She can feel the tears bubble up again too, and reaches with a hand to wipe at her eyes. She can't cry, not now.

But it's no wonder it had taken her so long to get the shoe off, Emma's ankle is beyond swollen and a horrible shade of purple. There's no way she could have been able to ignore the pain.

"Why didn't you say anything before?" she whispers, reaching out to tentatively inspect the damage. She can tell from experience and touch that it's not broken, thankfully just sprained, but her heart still aches for her little girl.

"Adrenaline is an amazing thing. And it's not that bad," Emma shrugs, leaning over to check it out herself.

"Not that bad?! Emma-!"

"Ssshh! Aurora's sleeping remember? And it's really not. I had to put my own shoulder back in its socket once, that was a lot worse."

Snow fights the urge to groan. She has a feeling she does not want to know the circumstances behind that particular injury. It hurts enough imagining her daughter doing what she's described.

"Gods, you're worse than Charming," she can't help but laugh. She'll pick laughter over tears every time right now.

That definitely gets Emma's attention.

"David?"

"Yep. He fell off a ladder putting up the mobile that was in your nursery. Popped right back up and said he was fine. Didn't admit to me until later that night that his arm was killing him and Doc discovered the fracture. I had to decorate the rest of the nursery while he sat there in a sling, I don't think I've ever seen him more put out. I lost count of how many times I caught him trying to add one more finishing touch once he was healed."

As she tells her story Snow unwraps the scarf from her neck to make a makeshift bandage. Emma can yell at her later for embarrassing her. That's what mothers are for right?

Finishing the wrap it's not much, but with it and elevation overnight it should provide some relief. What she'd give for ice and ibuprofen right now though. Getting up she finds a few suitable logs from their firewood pile, and goes right back to arrange them and place Emma's ankle on top.

She doesn't realize until she's finished that Emma has yet to respond, to her story or in protest to being cared for in general, and when she looks up wondering why she almost loses that ever-slipping grip on her control right then and there.

Emma's staring at her, with that same face she'd had before, as if she can't quite believe or understand how anyone could love her that much.

And it breaks her heart now just as much as it did then.

"Hey," she whispers, taking a chance and moving to sit right next to her, wrapping an arm around her in a sideways hug.

"Getting used to it, yeah?" she asks, tightening her grip.

Emma only nods, bowing her head so her hair hides her face. Snow lets her be, happy to have come this far in so short a time and after so long. The Mary Margaret that remains in her is still gobsmacked, so she'll definitely take it.

So needless to say she's both shocked and overjoyed when Emma suddenly moves and rests her head against Snow's shoulder. She doesn't hug back, but she doesn't pull away after a few seconds either when Snow wraps her other arm around her, and Snow relishes the feeling of holding her little girl close once again.

"It's alright," she whispers, feeling Emma shudder and take a deep breath, finally letting herself relax, "I'm here."

Keeping her arms tight around her daughter, Snow smiles as she hears Emma's breathing even out and she instinctively curls further into the source of warmth by her side.

And with one last glance at the wounded ankle to make sure it hasn't shifted with her, Snow checks the location of her sword and stares into the fire, ready to watch over Emma through the entire night.


	5. Part 5

_Part 5_

Disclaimer: I wish, but no, I don't own the characters/show.

Author's Note: No Emma or Snow this episode? No problem!

She's dreaming, she knows she's dreaming, but that doesn't mean she won't damn well enjoy it.

They're home. Her and Snow. They've made it, finally.

Though home has always been a loose term in her book, home is now where Henry is, where her family is, and that home is Storybrooke.

She's so giddy with disbelief she even hugs Snow without prompting, a major milestone in their evolving relationship.

Snow readily accepts the embrace, hugging her like she once imagined all loving mothers hugged their children. It's as terrifying as it is thrilling to be on the receiving end.

But they have other matters to attend to, and first on the list is finding Henry and James.

And like magic they appear, walking out of Granny's laughing amongst themselves before Henry turns and spots them. She's never felt so much love for anyone all at once as when she sees her little boy.

"Emma!"

Automatically she bends down, arms open wide as he flies into them. His hug is near suffocating but she holds on just as tight, pressing a kiss to his head as she feels his tears, running a soothing hand up and down his back, trying to keep her own tears at bay.

He's grown, she notices, and that only makes her hold on tighter. She is not going to miss any more time with him, not anymore, not ever.

"You're back. I can't believe it," Henry sniffs against her, and she holds on tighter, cherishing the feeling of finally having her son back.

"I'm here, Henry, and I'm not going anywhere."

"Not ever?" He pulls back, his eyes beyond hopeful.

"Not ever. Looks like you're stuck with me, kid," she smirks, and is nearly plowed over by Henry jumping into her arms once more.

"I love you, Mom," she hears him whisper, as if it's their little secret, and this time she can't fight the tears.

Mom. She is a mom.

"I love you too, Henry," she whispers back, hearing a gasp and looking to see Snow and James not lip-locked like she'd expected, but watching her and Henry with pride and love. It was Snow who'd given their position away, and Emma has to smirk at the embarrassed expression on her face.

Finally letting him go, however, Emma points Henry towards his waiting Grandmother, and he wastes no time embracing Snow.

Standing up to watch the two, she doesn't see James move until it's too late, and she finds herself in his arms.

They've never actually hugged before, she realizes, feeling those strong, protective arms come around her.

But as he draws her in, she doesn't fight it, instead clinging to the security she'd wished for once upon a time when she was a little girl with only a purple-ribboned blanket for company.

"Welcome home, Emma," he whispers, and she tightens her grip.

But as he pulls away and she looks for Henry, Snow's voice calls out to her.

"Emma. Emma wake up, sweetheart."

But it's not the Snow she sees in front of her who's talking, and slowly she remembers that this is all a dream, that she has to wake up.

No. No, no, no!

Already she can feel the pull of consciousness, and in a last ditch effort to hold on to the dream she reaches for Henry. But as his own hand reaches back there's too much space between them, it's too late.

"No!" she cries, and is finally jarred awake to see a very concerned looking Snow hovering over her. She closes her eyes at the sight, sitting up and rubbing her face with her hands.

_God damn it Emma don't cry, it was just a stupid dream._

"Emma?" she hears Snow ask, this time feeling a tentative hand on her shoulder.

When she doesn't answer Snow tries again, and despite the real need to be alone she can't help but give her mother points for her persistence.

"A nightmare?"

This question actually gets her attention, if only a nightmare was the problem.

"Yeah, I'm fine though. I've had a few in my time."

"You sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, just peachy."

She knows Snow isn't buying it for a second, but thankfully Mulan walks up to announce she's caught them breakfast before going to wake Aurora, effectively breaking the awkward silence and Snow's chance to prod further.

And as Snow reluctantly moves away to help fix breakfast, Emma takes the moment to breathe deep, forcing back her tears.

Nightmares, she thinks, aren't nearly as bad as good dreams. Because at least with nightmares, you're thankful when they're over.


	6. Part 6

_Part 6_

Disclaimer: I wish, but no, I don't own the characters/show.

Author's Note: In which Emma and Snow discuss the finer points of pirates and aliens.

She'd felt it in Storybrooke first, like an itch she couldn't scratch, annoying but easy to ignore in light of other events. But then she'd grabbed Regina's arm when they'd been trying to get that damn hat to work, and she just had to go and touch that stupid wardrobe too.

The tingle in her hand is still there from said wardrobe, and if anything it's only getting worse.

There'd been enchantment left, their prisoner had said, and she has to force herself not to shudder. Enchantment, enchantment as in magic. Could it have been her?

And if it is magic and she's the cause then it's leaking out of her somehow, like freaking menstruation only worse because it isn't happening once a month and there's no pill she knows of that can calm or stop the effects. But she certainly won't be going to her mother about it. The last thing she wants to do is worry that woman more. She'd thought the maternal instincts in Mary Margaret had been pretty strong, but in Snow they've proven to be a whole other animal.

"Emma? You've slowed down, what's wrong?" that animal speaks out, breaking her concentration.

"Nothing. I'm fine," she quickly assures, trying to push aside that damn tingle and walk a little faster to catch up with Mulan, Aurora, and, hell, _Captain Hook_.

"You sure?" Snow asks, moving easily to walk by her side, those green eyes of hers way too knowing for Emma's liking. What she needs is a distraction, and glancing at the rest of their party she finally spots one.

"So, Captain Hook, huh?" she gestures, "Not quite how I remember him."

Snow furrows her brow at the not so subtle subject change, but the temptation of talking with Emma is too much and she ultimately takes the bait. _Thank god_, the blonde sighs inwardly.

"How do you remember him?"

"Well, definitely not as a guy who trades make-up tips with Jack Sparrow that's for sure."

"Jack Sparrow?"

"Yeah, from the movie."

She expects instant recognition, but looking over at Snow as they walk along she only sees the brunette's confusion.

"Johnny Depp? Disney's 'Pirates of the Caribbean?'"

"Can't say I've heard of it."

"Wow, you guys _were_ cursed," Emma sighs, shaking her head.

Snow smiles, "If it wasn't made before you were born I doubt I got to watch it. Frozen in time remember?"

"It does explain your undying love for E.T.," she smirks, finding it much easier to bring up past memories of their time as roommates than any curse-related family stuff, "I think I've lost count of how many times you made me watch that creepy alien."

"Hey, that film is a classic!" Snow quickly defends, frowning at Emma's criticism but with bright eyes, obviously enjoying the banter.

"Guess I should consider myself lucky Henry didn't make us sit down and watch 'Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs' in an attempt to jog your memory."

Snow stifles a laugh, but Emma hears enough and damn if even her laugh doesn't sound otherworldly now. She might have Mary Margaret's memories, but she really is a fairy-tale princess, a princess that Emma is most definitely not. How could she ever possibly measure up? But the depressing thought is quickly forgotten thanks to what Snow says next.

"Would it embarrass you to know that I once owned a red hair bow?"

"You're joking."

"…"

"Seriously?!"

"Shh! Keep your voice down!" Snow scolds, but she can't hide her smile just as Emma can't stop the laughter that escapes her.

But when she finally calms down and looks back at Snow, she almost wishes she hadn't.

She's giving her the face again, the "mom" face as she's started to call it in her head. A look that says she's never seen anything more precious than Emma in the entire universe, and it makes her hand tingle even more.

Quickly adverting her gaze, Emma forces herself to focus on the trail ahead, leaving them to walk in stilted silence, when Hook speaks.

"Up ahead. We'll find the compass just over the ridge."


	7. Part 7

_Part 7_

Disclaimer: I wish, but no, I don't own the characters/show.

Author's Note: Some fluff to go with your sob for "Tallahassee."

They walk for as long as they can, before finally she puts a stop to their trek for the night.

Emma won't admit it of course, but the climb she'd made has taken its toll, and she only has to watch her daughter practically plop down beside the fire Mulan has made to confirm her theory.

They hadn't talked since the beanstalk, and the feeling of Emma hugging her first is burned into her memory, just as much as the dressing down she'd given her.

She'd known something was amiss when Emma had first pulled Mulan aside, and when that moment had come her worst fears had been confirmed. That first cut made by Mulan's sword…the sound still rings in her ears.

Her grip tightens on the arrow she's been drawing in the dirt with at the thought. At first she'd started the design in an effort not to stare at Emma, to reassure herself that her daughter was there and with her, but it's obvious the distraction isn't working, and she sighs, placing the arrow back in its quiver.

"I'm sorry."

The voice makes her jump, and Emma jumps with her, her hands rising in surrender. She doesn't realize until she sees those hands that her own have grabbed her sword. Instantly Snow relaxes her grip, absorbing her daughter's words with a nod.

As angry as she'd been, she can't stay mad at her little girl. Anger would only serve to keep them apart, not bring them closer together as Snow so desperately wanted.

"Would you like to sit down?" she asks, patting the patch of grass next to her, an olive branch.

Emma's eyes widen, as if she can't quite believe she's been forgiven, and Snow feels her heart break a little more at the thought of what kind of life Emma had to have led to believe a parent to be so unforgiving. But ultimately it only affirms her decision to leave her anger behind was the right one as the blonde quickly sits down beside her, almost as if she can't believe her luck. Because no matter Emma's past, they still have the present and the future, and she will not waste it.

She'd sat just a little past the fire's reach on a slight incline so as to have a better lookout for possible danger, and she watches as Emma takes in the view with a deep sigh. She doesn't speak, doesn't move, letting Emma take her time to collect her thoughts.

"I mean it, I am sorry," she says finally, her right hand playing with a bandaged left one.

And looking at the bandage Snow's thoughts are suddenly on anything but her daughter's apology.

"Emma!" she gasps, her own hands reaching for Emma's, "What happened?"

Gods, what kind of mother was she? She'd been so consumed by her own feelings she'd never once stopped to think it through. What if her little girl had been hurting the whole time and she'd never noticed? Her thoughts are thrown back to when Emma had hurt her ankle and she wants to kick herself repeatedly.

"No really, it's fine," Emma tries to pull away, "Really, just a scratch."

But Snow's hands have made short work of the bandage, and while Emma's words ring true, she can't help but think of the other possibilities.

"You aren't hurt anywhere else are you?" she prompts, eyes searching and letting Emma know with a look that lying is not an option.

"I might have gotten squeezed by a giant, but really I'm fine-"

"Emma. No hospitals here, remember?" she reminds her, and for a second Emma's scowl grows bigger before she finally groans.

"Ugh, fine, if I start hurting anywhere else I'll let you know, okay?"

"Good," Snow nods, "and I accept your apology. But Emma, you need to know something before we let this rest. I cannot, I will not lose you again."

She tries making eye contact, willing her message to get across, but Emma's eyes are looking at everything but her. On instinct she reaches out, her hand cupping her daughter's chin. The touch gets Emma's attention immediately, and her eyes, her father's eyes, widen when they finally meet Snow's.

"I meant what I said, Emma. We do this together or not at all. I understand why you did what you did, I do, but you do not have to protect me anymore. It's my turn, whether you like it or not, okay?"

But if anything, her words have the opposite effect she was hoping for, as Emma's eyes fill with tears.

"Oh sweetheart, what is it?" she pleads, her other hand moving to cradle her daughter's face, refusing to move away.

"You don't understand," she shakes her head, trying to move Snow's grip.

"What? What don't I understand?" she asks, fighting her own tears.

"I know you think I think that I don't need a mom. But the thing is- The thing is I do, which is why I won't risk losing you, not when I just found you. I meant what I said when I told you I couldn't lose my family, I think you can relate."

She doesn't speak, she can't, emotion after emotion tumbling over themselves and tripping her tongue.

But sometimes, she thinks, words aren't needed. And moving her hands to wrap them around Emma once more, feeling her daughter hold her just as close, this is one of those times.

When they finally pull away and she touches her lap, her eyes offering, she swears she hears her heart skip a beat when after only a moment of hesitation Emma lays down, her blonde head resting on Snow's lap. And just like she'd done for Aurora, she now does for her daughter, her hand weaving through Emma's hair, a soothing touch and comforting presence after the trials of their day.

And while she knows there will be many more hurdles ahead, she can't help but feel another major one has been crossed as her fingers massage Emma's scalp and she hums her daughter to sleep.


	8. Part 8

_Part 8_

Disclaimer: I wish, but no, I don't own the characters/show.

Author's Note: First off apologies for not getting this out sooner, the real world unfortunately has had other plans for me lately. That being said, considering we don't know for sure just how much time has past since the beanstalk and the last ep to air for the purposes of this story consider the scene from the last episode a day or so past. Enjoy!

"Great! I'll go get Mar-Snow!"

The words leave her mouth before she realizes just what they mean.

She'd just voluntarily agreed to go find the woman who made her feel the most exposed. Purposefully or not, the fact that her once best friend turned mother could still dismantle those walls would have usually sent her running in the other direction.

Yet here she is, walking towards the last place she'd seen her.

_Because maybe you want her to tear __down __ those walls, for good_, that small voice inside whispers, a voice thought long forgotten in the face of the world's harsh reality.

_But you aren't in that world anymore are you? _That voice persists, and with it that damn tingling is back. She'd been able to push it away in the face of giants and magic compasses, but now it's stronger than ever.

_Yet not around her, I wonder why that is? Why was it better when you let her comfort you? When you opened up?_

Shut up, shut up, shut up! Emma hisses back, rounding a tree to finally spot Snow atop a small incline. An incline much like the one from that night after the beanstalk, her stomach lurches at the thought.

She hadn't had time to consider that night since. They hadn't rested long before heading out again, trying to put as much distance between them and Hook as possible. But she can still remember waking up feeling more refreshed than she had since she'd twisted her ankle.

_Because _she_ was there_, that voice reminds her, presenting memories of those nights in vivid Technicolor. How comforted she'd felt, at peace like she never remembered being before. And once awake after each time she'd jumped away as if her mother was an ogre. But try as she might she can't stay away, like when she'd hugged Snow first, a moth to the flame.

_Now you're getting it._

But there are other more pressing matters to attend to, and she shakes herself of the emotional thoughts, squashing that small voice as it protests deep down. She can have this catharsis at another time with preferably more alcohol. Right now, time to deal with the problem at hand.

"Whadda doin'?" she calls out.


	9. Part 9

_Part 9_

Disclaimer: I wish, but no, I don't own the characters/show.

"So…you okay?"

Okay? She's miles from okay. Charming stuck in a sleeping curse, Henry with Regina, and all on the chance that she and her estranged daughter can defeat the most powerful witch of them all and in doing so find a way home.

Of course she won't be telling Emma any of this, they might be in it together but her private thoughts are still her own, and she desperately wants to believe Charming, just as much as Emma when they both expressed their faith in finding a way back. But still she has to say something, her daughter starting a conversation out of the blue is still unheard of despite everything, and she will not waste the opportunity, even if the subject matter is touchy to say the least.

"Not really," she settles for vague answer.

"I know the feeling," Emma nods, keeping pace as they bring up the rear. It's obvious that neither Emma or herself trust Mulan enough right now to let her follow behind them, and as for Aurora's escape, Snow can't help but feel itchy. Something wasn't right there-

"Were you really going to kill her?"

The question startles her, but Emma's voice holds no judgment, only curiosity, and it compels her to answer more than anything. But what to say? Would she have driven that arrow home?

She slows her pace, making sure to put more distance between her almost victim and Aurora.

"Honestly? I don't know. I admit, I wasn't in the best state of mind back there. Seeing your father was, well, it opened up more vulnerable spots than I was prepared for. And in that moment I was ready to do whatever was necessary to see us home, even kill. But what I also know is that for every life you take yours is affected, so you must choose wisely when fate puts you in such a position."

It's the best answer she can give, she only hopes that Emma can understand. A quick glance tells her Emma is looking straight ahead, seemingly lost in thought, and Snow let's her be, continuing their walk.

"I think I get it," she finally speaks up, and Snow quickly glances back, trying to catch her daughter's eye.

"Oh?"

"Yeah. You might remember a certain mad hatter and a croquet mallet?"

She nods, remembering that night all too well.

_I cannot lose my family._

"By rights he should have been dead from that fall, but you did what you had to do. You protected me. I didn't get it then, how this little mouse of a school teacher could Sparta kick a full grown man out a window, but I do now."

Emma's speech fades off, and for a moment Snow thinks she's done, but then, in almost a whisper Emma continues.

"You weren't willing to lose your family either."

It's true, and it hits the heart of her hard. She'd never quite realized it as Mary Margaret, but ever since Emma had arrived she'd been looking out for the blonde, watching over her in her way. Just as much as she was purposefully doing so now.

"Yes," she nods, taking another big chance and reaching for Emma's hand. They've jumped so many hurdles today, would one more be too much? But without a second thought Emma meets her halfway, and the elation that flutters in her chest at the feeling of her daughter's hand in hers makes her ready to take on anyone else who dare stand in their way. Especially Cora.

And that thought, she tightens her grip on Emma's hand, feeling her squeeze back, is no idle threat.


	10. Part 10

_Part 10_

Disclaimer: I wish, but no, I don't own the characters/show.

Author's Note: Here, my pretties, is where I end this little tale. Mother and daughter are finally back home, and with their arrival new adventures and fanfic await. Thank you to everyone who's followed/read/reviewed/favorited, it's been a blast.

She stinks.

She hadn't realized just how bad until she got around normal smelling people. But the hard alcohol she was handed when they first walked through the door has definitely diminished her sense of smell, so she can only hope it's done the same for the others.

Her smelly companion, for instance, hasn't left the side of her beloved all night. And while she had reddened like a cherry as any kid would seeing their parents basically make out, she can't imagine that Snow's breath would have been particularly wonderful after days with no toothbrush.

Come to think of it-

She sweeps her own tongue across her teeth, and can't hide her wince. Even with liquor the fuzzies she feel attached are obvious. It had been so much easier to ignore basic hygiene when they'd been running and fighting for their lives.

"Hey, Mom-"

She jumps at the name, but then smiles.

Mom. She really is a mom now. She'd been so happy to see Henry the first time she'd barely registered the name change, but now she soaks it in, opening her arm to invite him in to the booth she's taken up by herself.

The dinner they'd been promised had turned into a massive party that has started to take up the entire diner, person after person filtering in to welcome them home. It'd been a bit much to begin with, with whom she assumed to be six of the seven dwarfs and Ruby and Granny as well as her family scarfing down burgers, so once the fortieth or so person had tried to shake her hand she'd retreated to a corner booth with whiskey bottle and glass in tow. But Henry of all people would find her in the fray. He had a knack for doing that, a family trait it seemed.

"How you been, kid?" she asks as he cuddles close, his head resting on her shoulder as his arms wrap around her waist.

"Good. Grandpa's been great. I even got a horse I'm learning to ride!" he exclaims, and she laughs. Of course David would get her son a horse. Prince Charming and all.

"He was really worried about you, about Grandma. We both were. We didn't even know at first if you'd made through alive."

Henry's voice gets softer as he finishes, and smelly or not Emma holds on to her boy tighter, pressing a kiss to his head.

"We're back, Henry. And I promise I will do everything in my power to stay with you from now on, okay?"

"You promise?"

He pushes away, his eyes searching, looking for reassurance only a mother can give.

"Yes," she smiles, reaching out to brush his hair away from his eyes, "I promise."

It's all Henry needs to hear before burrowing into her once more, and in that moment everything is right with the world.

Love really is strength.

"So this is where you wandered off to," she hears Snow through the din as the woman settles down in the opposite seat, David not far behind.

They're almost sickeningly adorable together, and it's amazing in hindsight that she hadn't been able to see what Henry had known all along.

But a lot as changed, she has changed, and Emma can't help but feel it's for the better as Snow's hand reaches across the table and she quickly grasps it. Whatever her magical abilities, whatever awkward family growing pains are ahead, they're together, they're home, and this time it's no dream.

She's not alone anymore.


End file.
